


Keeping in Line

by ISpentALongTimeWandering



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, badboyBran
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-06
Updated: 2017-05-06
Packaged: 2018-10-28 14:42:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10833378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ISpentALongTimeWandering/pseuds/ISpentALongTimeWandering
Summary: When Ned went to the capital, he brought with him Bran and Sansa. Bran, not having much experience in the South, will do his best to stave off boredom and get everyone to think he's keeping in line.AU, Bran never climbed the broken tower on that fateful night.





	Keeping in Line

               Bran looked down through the window of his room in the Red Keep. It was high, but not so high as to frighten him. After many years of climbing, Bran no longer felt a fear of heights. To the contrary, it calmed Bran down and brought a feeling of comfort to him. To the dismay of his mother, this led him to climb more than he had before.

               Out of the window, he saw the many streets below. While King’s Landing had more streets and houses than anywhere he had seen before, they all stunk of shit and piss and made his stomach turn. So, he called it a draw, and decided he liked the North’s coziness to the South’s rambling.

               On the balcony of the Red Keep, he saw Joffrey walking with Sansa. She was enamored with him, but he couldn’t see why. He was mean and tampered, in a way only a mad prince could be. Bran decided quickly that he would rather jump from the highest window of the highest tower than marry a girl who was akin to Joffrey.

               His father warned him of the dangers of the South, and to stay inside the Red Keep. But a wolf must be free, so he resented the rule. As much as the rule brought disdain to him, and how easy it would be to break the rule, he decided it would be best to heed his father’s advice. The skinny men who walked the mud-covered roads of fleabottom frightened him, and the stink of the vile waste that made the mud revolted him.

               His father had been gone all day, and Sansa was following Joffrey as if she was a duckling and he was the mother. For most of the day he was lonely, and the only way to stave of boredom was to join the company of the more mellowed children of the hosts. Tommen was a nice boy, and Myrcella was a nice girl. But if he was as boring as those two, he would surely be content to sit around as they do.

               There was no excitement in the Red Keep, if only to watch the Kingsguard in their armor that he desired to wear himself. They told stories of the battles they took part in, and Ser Barristan had the best stories of them all. He would talk to Jaime, but his father spoke of the man who was known as kingslayer in a way that had made him seem unpopular. Bran had heard the story of the mad king many times, but never in the fashion his father had told him.

               Bran drew his head back from the window, and spun around in place. He moved to the door, and grabbed the handle. The door opened with a turn, and he peered into the hallway. _Empty._ He made his way down the hall, and he could hear the whispers of maids and septas. He passed Joffrey’s room and Myrcella’s room before stopping at Tommen’s. With a sound knock, Bran asked Tommen if he could join him.

               The door opened slightly, and he could see Tommen’s squinted eyes looking through the crack of the door. As soon as he saw Bran, his eyes went wide. He quickly shut the door, followed by the sounds of a convoluted lock being slowly undone. The door clicked, and it swung wide open. Tommen’s room was a bit of a mess, and it seemed that it had been a while since the last maid had cleaned it.

               “Bran? How are you doing?” said Tommen, who was always so attentive. He didn’t appear to be embarrassed of the mess, nor did he seem to be hiding it. Bran should expect that of Tommen, being a young prince and all.

               “I’m doing well, thank you.” Bran stepped over the clothes that littered the ground, a small gesture that Tommen didn’t notice. Instead, he was busy rummaging around the messy bed to clear off enough room to sit on. “Say, Tommen. Do you want to go to the training yard?”

               Tommen shook his head at the notion. “No, not today. Maybe tomorrow.” Tommen’s voice sounded slightly fearful, something that Bran had noticed whenever Joffrey was around. Tommen didn’t like leaving the Red Keep when Joffrey was outside, and he tend to stay locked in his room when Joffrey was inside.

               “Well, staying in here is quiet boring, isn’t it?” Bran sat down next to Tommen on his bed, and Tommen shook his head again. Bran never thought of Tommen as a square, but that was quickly changing. With a sigh, Bran left his resting spot and went to leave. “Is there anything you would like to do, Tommen?”

               “I like to watch the birds.”

               Bran curled his lips, and went back into the hallway. He turned to see Myrcella’s door, but visiting her room would be improper. _‘What’s the worst that can happen?’_ He went to the door, and gave three sharp knocks. There was a sound of a scuffle, and the door swung open. It revealed Myrcella, who appeared to be out of breath.

               “Yes, Bran?” Her voice squeaked, and it caused her cheeks to blush. Her eyes stared intently at him, waiting and expecting him to speak as soon as she had. Her bottom lip was tucked beneath her upper lip, and she seemed to be embarrassed that he had visited her. Her head stuck out of the doorway, with her hands holding onto the door.

               “Would you like to do something?” Bran had been bored for the day, and he was tired of it. Myrcella’s eyes shot directly to the corridor behind him, and he had a sneaking suspicion that someone had been behind him. Had it been his father, he was expecting a reprimand for visiting ‘poor Myrcella’.

               When he turned around, he was met by gold armor that had shocked his eyes. _‘Definitely not father.’_ Bran turned his gaze upwards, where he was met by the smiling face of Jaime Lannister. He did not seem upset, or even surprised. His helmet was at his side, held by his arm. Jaime’s face looked expecting, waiting for Bran to speak.

               “My apologies, Ser Jaime.” Bran turned to look at Myrcella, but the door was shut. She had already retreated into the confines of her room. He had never been this close to the King slayer since when they arrived at Winterfell. “It has been a boring day for me, and I wanted to play.”

               “Oh, I bet.” Jaime looked at the door, and then back at Bran. “I suspect there’s more for a young adventurous boy like you to do in the North?”

               “The South is different in many ways, Ser Jaime.” Jaime nodded in agreement. Bran didn’t want to seem rude, but he didn’t like the South much at all. “And Winterfell is so far away.”

               “Yes.” Jaime fixed his eyes on the door. “Very far away.”

**Author's Note:**

> So, elephant in the room. No, I'm not continuing 'Even the Noblest Men'. Grew to dislike some of the pairings, and some of the chapters. I might give it a rewrite, if time allows. This will be my primary work until I finish it. So, I hope you guys enjoy it.


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